


Need

by dont_hate_me01



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 05:32:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7964428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dont_hate_me01/pseuds/dont_hate_me01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a hunt gone wrong, Dean has to take care of Sam's needs, but will Sam even realize it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need

**Author's Note:**

> Another one of the oldies never posted here.

Some hunts were worse than others. There was always the one salt and burn that would leave either one of them with a small nick. The odd exorcism that did not go as planned – the innocent paying with their lives. But this, this time it was different…

Dean dragged Sam into the motel room. As he placed his baby brother on the bed, he couldn’t help but to look into those big hazel eyes. Sam was totally out of it. At the start of the ride over he was bouncing, not being still for one second, shivering as the adrenaline pumped through him, but then, in mere seconds, everything changed. His eyes glazed over with something more than fear, something that Dean could not take away – even if he made a deal with the devil himself.

Dean stroked Sam’s bangs out of his eyes and whispered softly as Sam whimpered when he released him. He wanted to take care of his lover, but he had to get the medical kit from the Impala and he had to secure the room. Only then would he be able to take care of the one thing in life that means more than his own.

Not wanting to – but out of pure need Dean stepped out. The door left open – he needed to see Sam – Sam needed to see him; although those haunted eyes were not able to see past the anguish they faced the past hour.

It took Dean a total time of four minutes and twenty-five seconds to bring in the medical kit and to secure the room. It was a whole four minutes and twenty-five seconds too long. Sam was lying just like he placed him on the bed. “Sammy?” Dean tried again. Sam was yet to utter a word except for the needing sounds he kept on making. How he wished he could trade places.

Not wanting to cause Sam anymore angst he did not stop but kept on whispering, speaking sweet nothings. With great care he removed the bloody outer shirt and T-shirt from Sam’s body. Sam whimpered again and he soothed him down. Sam would bitch later about the ruined garment, but as he cut the T-shirt he could not care shit about a piece of cloth.

Dean moved lower, raising Sam’s hips from the bed, pulling down his jeans and boxers in one motion. If it was not for the seriousness of the situation Dean would have stopped and stood in awe over his brother’s body. It’s not widely known, but Sam loved tanning in the nude, his skin was only one color – the color of melted caramel and Dean could taste it on his tongue.

He started looking Sam over and slowly traced his fingers through Sam’s hair – letting the tips push against his brother’s skull. He sighed in relief as he found that there were no bumps and the blood he had on his fingers was from the blood collected on Sam’s shirts. He moved lower, stroking his hands lovingly over the broad shoulders, halting at Sam’s collar bone, before picking up the speed, moving with more ease – once again not noting any injuries.

Dean placed his hands on Sam’s chest. He could feel Sam’s breath hitching, knowing he had to work fast – shock was setting in. He started prodding Sam’s ribs. Looking carefully at Sam’s reaction he pressed hard on his ribs, a silent sigh of relief escaping his lips as Sam’s face stays slack. Eyes still unfocused, still not blinking.

He moved down to Sam’s thighs and placed his hands on his brother’s hips. Strong fingers finding their natural place, sliding home before moving down. Pressing hard but finding no fault. He gathered the sheet not giving a damn about what the motel would think and wrapped Sam up and carried him, as the treasure of his existence, to the bathroom. Not bothering to step out of his own clothes he placed Sam on his feet inside the shower and turned on the water as he lets Sam’s body rest against his own, the water dampening, wetting the sheet.

Dean moved the wet, heavy material from Sam’s body, looking down as the water pooled at their feet, pink in color, fading as the water became clear, no color added from his baby’s body. He used one of his hands washing Sam, not removing his other hand that was placed as a vice over Sam’s heart. He needed to feel the slow rhythm beneath his palm.

As the water stayed clear he turned it off, soothing again as Sam whimpered at the loss of heat. Reaching out he picked up the towels and wrapped Sam inside a warm cocoon, makings sure Sam was secured.

He placed Sam down on the bed, gently rubbing his brother down still soothing as he went along. He stripped quickly using the same damp towels to dry himself before taking Sam in his arms, gathering him close, letting the warmth of his own body seep into his brother’s body.

Dean did not know how long he stayed with Sam in his arms; he could not care. The instant there was a change in Sam’s breathing Dean was awake. He pressed Sam closer, knowing that this is what his mate needed. Sam pressed back only using his hips to indicate his need. Dean could not refuse.

Dean pressed Sam into him, holding him tight, spreading his hands over Sam’s abs, moving up, encircling Sam’s twin buds, rubbing his palms hard over the muscles, feeling the peaks rise against his palms – wanting, seeking more attention. He nudged Sam’s head to the side finding his brother’s long neck, licking up and down, nipping lightly before biting down hard and marking Sam as his. Sam groaned once and Dean shifted their positions, making sure he had Sam pinned against the bed – they both needed this.

Sam’s eyes were closed, but it did not bother Dean, his mate, his life was responding and that was all that mattered. He straddled Sam’s hips, Sam’s cock already thick with need, slapping up against his stomach. Dean moved over Sam’s body, biting and marking, knowing that Sam will want to see the bruises the following day. He took one bud into his mouth, suckling hard, rolling his tongue repeatedly, around and over while his nails scraped at the other one, sending waves of pleasure pain through Sam’s body; through his own.

He mapped Sam’s body with wet kisses moving lower until he got to Sam’s naval. He dipped his tongue inside, once again using his teeth to bite and to leave a much needed mark. He placed his hands in the well-known dips of Sam’s hips, keeping the younger man earthed to the bed as he kept on assaulting Sam, but still ignoring the weeping cock in front of his eyes.

Only as Sam’s hands curled around his short cropped hair did Dean give in to Sam’s silent pleas. He roughly pulled Sam’s cock in his mouth, not playing with the tip, but pushing his mouth over and down the long shaft, thanking the heavens for his nonexistent gag reflex as he took Sam to the hilt.

He slowly started a rhythm using more teeth than normally, wanting to keep Sam as close to the edge as possible, wanting him to weep with pleasure, not wanting him to be able to distinguish between pain and pleasure.

Sam’s head was rolling from side to side, eyes still locked closed, refusing to open, refusing to part with the haunting images still locked behind those eyelids. Dean had to make Sam forget about this hunt, but he had to work for it and he had to work hard.

Dean pressed his tongue against the angry red-purple vein on the underside of Sam’s cock feeling Sam’s want seeping through his body. He moved up and found the slit. Not lingering, not teasing, not tasting, but with hunger he pushed his tongue into the slit, lapping at the pre cum hoping that the slit will offer up more, the need for Sam’s taste on his tongue becoming more intense.

His hands traveled lower, finding Sam’s sack. He rolled it between his fingers, the heaviness settled in his palm as he rolled the balls over and over, squeezing slightly, loving the feel of it between his fingers. He removed his mouth from Sam’s cock, rubbing circles of comfort on Sam’s abdomen as the young man grew restless, showing him that he had nothing to fear.

He spread Sam’s thighs, pushing his legs further apart to gain entry. He used the base of his tongue and pressed against the puckered hole, lapping and inhaling the scent. Dean used the point of his tongue, teasing and begging for entrance, looking on as his assault bared fruit and the tight muscle releasing its grip, slacking, giving Dean what he asked for.

Soon his index finger joined his tongue, the two working in tandem. Showing his brother pleasure, asking his lover for more, taking with care, giving with devotion. One finger became two, two became three and soon Sam was making more sounds of need, almost using his voice in full.

Knowing that Sam wanted to feel, wanted to forget, Dean did not bother to look for the lube, he slicked himself up with the pre cum leaking freely from his own shaft, gathering spit in his hand and together with Sam’s pre cum he stroked himself, feeling himself getting even thicker, knowing his brother will feel this in the morning even in a week.

Dean pushed Sam’s bent legs up to his chest, holding on to them with one arm swung across while guiding himself in with the other hand. As he pressed forward the crown of his cock met with the first ring, resistance was offered, but Dean did not stop, not now, not tonight. He raised himself higher on his knees and pushed forward beyond the resistance.

Dean growled. The intense heat surrounding his cock was burning like hell fire. He could feel the channel he was in, contracting around him, wanting to push him out. He did not care, for Sam’s sake – he could not care. He pushed again and only stopped when he was sheathed completely to the hilt.

He did not give Sam’s body the time to adjust, the time needed to relax. Tonight was not about that, tonight was about Sam, about survival. He withdrew his shaft before plunging in again, setting a grueling pace, not wanting, not able to slow down, to take things easy. He pounded in over and over, flesh slapping against flesh. Groan against groan.

Dean released Sam’s legs and as they moved out of their own accord around his waist, ankles crossing behind his back, he moved up, changing the position seeking out and finding the one spot, concentrating on stroking, slamming, pushing against that nerve on every stroke, on every motion forward, on every retreat out of the still too tight channel.

He gripped Sam’ cock, pumping it in rhythm to the pace already set. Long hard stokes in, long hard strokes down, swift retreats out, fast moving strokes up. The motion repeated itself over again. He could feel Sam’s body stiffening up, knowing his brother’s release was close; he himself was not far behind.

He slammed into Sam again, nature taking over as his orgasm rode his body, taking control away from him as at the same time Sam’s eyes snapped open. Sam’s hazel eyes looking up into his green ones, asking, pleading to help him to forget, to help him only remember the here and the now.

Sam’s legs tightened their hold around his waist, squeezing, pressing the air from his body, leaving bruises of their own as his release came to the front. Streams of cum left Sam’s body, squirting from his cock onto his stomach, over Dean’s hand between their tightly weaved bodies. His eyes rolled back in their sockets out of pure, intense pleasure and this time Dean did not mind, this is what Sam needed. This would bring Sam back.

Dean untangled himself from Sam, grabbing a damp towel from the ground, cleaning them up before pressing against Sam again, bringing Sam back into the safety of his arms. Knowing that tomorrow they will talk, they will come to grips with the death that knocked so near them tonight, but for now things were alright. Sam’s marked, he knows he belongs, he knows he’s alive and that’s all that matters for now, all that mattered to Dean.

**THE END**


End file.
